


Fairy Tales

by MaxxSummers



Series: One More Day, One More Life [1]
Category: Gorleska - Fandom, Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU, Age Difference, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Murder, Older Man/Younger Man, Two Dominant Males
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:12:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7483734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxxSummers/pseuds/MaxxSummers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James had been watching the younger servant for a few months now, enjoying the small glimpses he got of him; however, all that changed when Jerome murdered James's parents, and now James has to keep Jerome a secret or both the kingdom and his life could be in jeopardy. </p>
<p>This is honestly a result of I love Gotham and I'm still not over Merlin. There's no magic in this one though (sorry if that disappoints).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a new story. I enjoy writing this one more so there might be more updates here than in the other; however, I will try to continue to regularly update both stories as long as I can. Updates may get slower in August, but I will try my best.
> 
> \-- Maxx

In fairy tales these things always happened on a dark and stormy night, but this wasn’t a fairy tale. This was reality, and even though it would seem cliché James would have rather had this happen on a dark and stormy night instead of in the middle of the day -- the midday sun shining brightly through the curtained windows and making his parents’ room look like it should belong in a fairy tale.

The way things were now were just like in a fairy tale. At least, they would be if he hadn’t found the cook’s son in his parents’ room holding a knife covered in blood as his parents lay dead on the floor just hours earlier. The image was permanently engraved into his brain: the redheaded boy smiling at him as the blood dripped off the large blade grasped in his thin fingers. The blood spilled on the expensive carpet next to his parents’ bed. The way his mother’s throat was slashed while his father’s body was mutilated nearly beyond recognition. Worst of all was the way the boy had smiled at him, laughing as James fell to his knees and cried for the guards.

James had been appalled at the sight, having to put his head in his hands in order to keep his lunch down as the guards came in and dragged the redhead away, but somehow the boy still managed to intrigue the man. It wasn’t because he managed to turn James's safe haven into a place of horror. No, it wasn’t that, but the way the redhead seemed so innocent despite being so obviously guilty of a horrible crime: one that would surely have him hanged. 

The prince should be with his sister, comforting her in this time of grief, or perhaps he should be with his father’s most trusted friend, helping arrange the coronation which would be followed by a funeral procession down the main street of the city and into the woods where his parents would be buried. Yes, Jim should be doing both of these things, but instead he was heading down to the dungeons to come face to face with his parents’ murderer.

“Leave us,” he said to the guards.

They obeyed, not that they had much choice. If they had obeyed he could easily have them executed -- he was now king after all -- but he wouldn’t. No, James didn’t believe in killing a man with a family for something as simple as disobedience, but his father had taught him to never tell anyone that. Instead, James kept a firm hand over his staff, and he stared impatiently as the guards hesitantly left him alone outside the murderer’s cell. 

“If you’re going to cry over your parents’ death, I don’t want to hear it,” the redhead said.

“I’m not here to cry, Jerome,” James replied, looking at the boy in the cell.

The boy was quite a sight: his long, normally pushed back hair had fallen in his face. His pale skin was bruised and dirty, and his hands were chained above his head. His clothes were torn, and he looked almost helpless as he sat on the first floor, but at the same time he seemed happy -- too happy.

“Why did you do it, Jerome?” James asked.

“Why didn’t you do it, Jamesy?” Jerome replied. “I mean, don’t act like you care about them now. You and I both know you hated them.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be invisible? To just be a little piece in a giant machine?” Jerome said, standing up. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to work your life away only to get yelled at by people who don't even know your name? You see, I was nobody, but now everybody will know my name.”

“You killed my parents for fame?” James yelled, stepping closer to the cell bars.

Jerome laughed, stepping closer to say, “Don’t act like you care. I know what they did to you -- my mom told me.” He lowered his voice, his smile falling. “They beat you.”

“My parents were good people.”

“That doesn’t make the bruises go away. The nightmares and the fear,” Jerome replied, his smile returning to his face. “They will stay with you forever.”

“You’re insane, Jerome.”

“Did you ever notice me, Jamie?” Jerome asked. “Did you ever think of me late at night, when you were all alone in your room?”

James looked towards the ground, shifting uncomfortably at the boy’s words. The truth was he had thought about the boy late at night. He hadn’t noticed him until a few months ago when Jerome had began to help serve food, but since that day he had often found the redheaded boy in his thoughts late at night when his hand was wrapped around his leaking cock as he ached for release. James had even gone as far as to get a beating from his father in order to learn the boy’s name: a name that often fell from his lips as he came onto his hand on those late nights alone in his room. But pure lust wasn’t all that went through James’s head when he thought of the boy. More times than not he longed to hold the boy in his arms, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he made love to the redhead. Yes, the boy had been Jim’s obsession for the past few months, and he had been yearning for an excuse to talk to the boy; however, the current circumstances were not what he had in mind.

Unknown to James, Jerome often had similar thoughts about the older man, although they never included being wrapped in the others arms and making love. No, Jerome’s thoughts were more lustful than that. The redhead quickly picked up on James’s stares and what they meant, which led to the boy often going into a secret place in the woods to pleasure himself to the thought of the older man, screaming the prince’s name as fantasies of the older man in full submission to him filled his head. Jerome wouldn’t call himself obsessed with the older man; no, Jerome could easily move onto someone else if he needed, but at the moment the prince of Gotham seemed to be the last chance he had at getting out of this mess alive, and he didn’t plan to let it slip from his grasp so easily.

“Come unchain me, Jamie,” Jerome said, allowing his eyes to wander to the bulge in James’s pants. “We can have some fun.”

“You’re set to be executed in three days time,” James said, swiftly turning to walk out of the room. “You must pay for your crimes, Jerome!”

“Come back tomorrow will ya?” Jerome yelled. “It gets lonely down here.”

James didn’t bother acknowledging the guards on his way out. He didn’t stop to check on his sister or help plan his crowning and his parents’ funeral procession, but instead nearly ran through the stone corridors until he reached his chamber. He pushed the door closed, praying everyone would think he was grieving and would leave him alone; however, he was far from grieving, or perhaps this was grieving in its own messed up way, but either way his pants were soon wrapped around his knees as he laid on his plush bed.

“Fuck, Jerome,” he said, wrapping his hand around his rock hard staff. “Why do you do this to me?”

He began moving his hand up and down his length, groaning at the pleasure it gave him as all his worries seemed to be swept away and his head filled with mind numbing bliss. The other times he did this were all great -- how could they not be? -- but this time was better. He finally knew how the boy's voice sounded: deep and gravelly, far better than the higher pitched voice he had imagined. It was that voice James longed to hear saying his name, both in a whisper as they made love and as a scream as James pounded his ass. 

James tightened his hand around his aching cock, quickening the pace as he pushed himself closer to release. He held his free hand over his mouth to muffle what would be loud moans in an attempt to not draw any unwanted attention. He continued to keep up the blissful pace, sliding his thumb over the slit every few times he reached the tip and smearing precum over the rest of his length. His head spun in pleasure as the familiar tingle made its way from his balls deep into his gut, Jerome’s name on his lips.

“My lord,” a voice called from outside the door. “I was wondering if you might come to dinner? I need to go over some things with you for tomorrow's ceremonies.”

James didn’t stop what he was doing, or even slow down, but instead kept up the pace as he answered his father’s friend, struggling to keep the pleasure from his voice and earning unwanted suspicion. 

“I’ll meet you in the dining hall in a moment!” James yelled, spilling his seed over his hand and stomach as he did.

James held his breath, hoping the older man didn’t become suspicious. Luckily, he didn’t hear anything else and assumed the man had gone to wait for him. James quickly got up from his bed, throwing his pants into a basket and using his shirt to wipe the white, sticky substance from his hand and stomach before throwing that into the basket as well. He walked over to his wardrobe, picking out a red shirt and tan pants to wear to dinner.

James quickly threw on the garments, tucking his pants into his brown leather boots before looking himself over one last time. He looked normal, perhaps too normal for just having his parents murdered, but as far as he could tell there was no sign of what he had been doing just moments before, his parents’ murderer consuming his thoughts in a way that was far from normal.

With one final look over, James walked out of his room and down the twisting corridors of the castle until he reached the dining hall. He went to his usual place at the long wooden table: to the right of where his father used to sit, the king’s and queen’s usual places hauntingly empty. His father’s friend, Harvey, sitting beside his sister, Selina. She wore a black dress: the same she had worn when their older brother had died of an infection.

James took his place across from his sister, shifting nervously at the disapproving look she gave him. He glanced at Harvey, giving him a confused look before returning his eyes to his sister. She scoffed, shaking her head.

“I can’t believe you,” she said.

“What?” James replied.

“Our parents were murdered by a psychopath, and you do this!”

_Shit._

“How dare you wear your usual clothing.”

_Oh thank god._

“Show some respect!”

“I don’t see a need in taking time to mourn when there’s so much to do!” James said, regretting forgetting to wear the black shirt his father had demanded him wear in times for mourning. “The kingdom is in a fragile state at the moment, and I want everything to be right for tomorrow's events.”

“Then why weren’t you up helping Harvey?” she snapped. “Why were you in the dungeons all day with that devil spawn!”

That did it. James jumped up, struggling to lean across the table as he grabbed his sister by her neck. He wouldn’t have normally lost his temper this easily -- she was his nagging little sister -- but Jerome was a sore subject, and he didn’t appreciate him being called a devil spawn. He just hoped his sister wouldn’t realize that’s what this was about.

“Don’t tell me how to mourn,” he growled, throwing his sister back in her chair. “I’m the one who saw their dead bodies, not you! I was the one who found Jerome holding a knife as they bled out!”

“How dare you speak his name!” his sister said, standing up from her chair. “Father should have had him killed the second he was born! He had the sign of a devil spawn since birth!”

“Hey hey, let’s just calm down, okay?” Harvey said, standing to put his arms between the two in case the situation escalated.

Selina sat down with a huff, and only then did James slowly return to his seat. The trio kept silent until the servants served their food: beef stew with bread and wine. Jim stared at the table, desperately trying to calm his nerves as too many thoughts rushed through his head. Thoughts of Jerome and how much he wanted him, and thoughts about how he wanted to punish his sister for insulting Jerome behind his back, but he knew neither of those options were possible. He wanted so badly to do one of those things, but instead he sat silent, helpless.

“James!”

“Huh?” James replied, hoping Harvey hadn’t been trying to get his attention for too long.

“I need to go over the ceremonies with you,” he said.

“Okay, right. Sounds good,” James said, taking a long sip of his wine.

“Tomorrow we will gather the knights and noble families in the-”

“I know how coronations work,” James snapped, having to make a mental note in order to not slam his goblet on the table. 

“I understand, My Lord; however, I just wanted to-”

“Just skip to the funeral,” James said, leaning back in his chair.

“Yes, sire,” Harvey said. “But I just don’t want anything--”

“I could have you locked in the dungeons!” 

“James, what is wrong with you?” Selina yelled. “Stop acting like a fool! He’s only trying to help.”

“I don’t need his help,” James said, standing up and sliding his chair away from the table before turning his attention to Harvey. “After the coronation Selina and I will ride in front of the coffins, and our parents’ bodies will be buried in the woods.”

Without another word he turned and left, ignoring his sister cursing him as he walked out of the dining hall. He would have gone out for a night ride, but he knew Selina would have his head the next day if he dared to do so. She had been more protective recently, not that he usually minded, but at times like these it could get annoying. 

James decided to return to his chamber instead of risking facing his sister the next day, once again laying on his bed, only this time without the hard cock; however, he still had thoughts of Jerome rushing through his mind.

The ginger criminal would be executed far too soon. James wished he had known what the boy was planning and been able to talk him out of it before the tragic event occurred, but unfortunately it was too late. It hurt the older man’s heart to think about Jerome all alone in the dungeons, cold and hungry. The gut wrenching thought of the boy being burned at the stake was almost too much for James to bear, but it was then he made the realization of what was going on between him and the boy.

James didn’t just like the boy. He didn’t just find him attractive and want to have an affair with him behind the closed doors of the castle: an affair that no one, not even his sister, could find out about. No, James wanted so much more than that. He wanted to wake up next to the redhead every morning, and go to sleep next to him every night. He wanted Jerome to be called king and sit next to him on the throne. No, James didn’t just like Jerome.

_He was in love._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to build up to some more...entertaining events.

James sighed impatiently, waiting as the servant fastened the dark blue cape over his chainmail, a silver bat stitched on the left side. He had been dreading this moment all day. All he want to do was be alone with his thoughts, or with Jerome, but instead he had to go through with two ceremonies and fake strength through his grief -- grief for the wrong person.

“James, are you almost done?” Selina said, poking her head into the room.

“Yes,” James replied, stepping away from the servant and adjusting his cape so it hung over his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walked into the corridor, almost enjoying the sound of his boots clicking rapidly against the stone floor as his sister struggled to keep up. At his pace it didn’t take long to reach the chapel; however, James didn’t enter immediately. No, he instead stood at the closed wooden doors, listening to the rumble of talking knights and noble families.

He could run. He could take Jerome and escape the kingdom before they could catch up with them, and he could give his sister the crown. James longed to be free with the redheaded servant, being able to love him without secrecy or torment, but if he left, would that really be a possibility? Would he really be able to have a relationship with the boy, or would his sister drag him back and execute Jerome?

“You’ll do great, James,” Selina said, patting James’s arm.

“Thanks,” the prince replied, taking a deep breath before throwing open the heavy wooden doors.

The room immediately silenced, the only sound being that of breath and James’s own shoes clicking against the floor. Selina followed the soon to be king until she reached the front row where she took her place amongst the others. He ignored Harvey’s disapproving glare, instead keeping his eyes focused on the stained glass windows in front of him.

“You’re late,” Harvey whispered, stepping closer to the prince.

“Blame the servant,” James replied. “Let’s just get this over with, and keep it simple.”

James slowly dropped to his knees, continuing to face the stained glass windows as Harvey began his speech. James allowed his mind to wander, subconsciously muttering “yes” to the vows Harvey recited to him. He was being crowned king -- a day he thought wouldn’t come for at least another few years, and it was a responsibility he wasn’t sure he could manage. In fact, he knew he couldn’t manage it if he allowed Jerome to be executed.

But James would have to manage. What would the people of Gotham think if their king ran away to be in a relationship with a man who, by law, deserved to be executed? Would they riot -- execute him and Jerome before turning on each other as they fought to become king themselves? Would they kill his sister and Harvey, or would they flee before their entire world collapsed around them? No, he couldn’t run away with the boy, but he couldn’t bear to see him executed either. He was trapped by his own obsession.

James almost jumped as Harvey placed the golden crown on his head, the older man glaring daggers at him due to the slight flinch. James only allowed a small smile to cross his face for a brief second before standing. He turned to his right, taking the golden sceptre and orb from the knight offering them to him. He continued to turn, facing the crowd as they chanted “long live the king” for what felt like an eternity to the now king. 

After a few moments James began walking towards the door, the crows immediately quietening as Selina took her place directly behind James. The king’s heart sank as he led the crowd through the twisting halls, the lack of sound reminding him of exactly what they were doing today, and why James now had to make what was possibly the most difficult decision of his life.

James led the crowd to the courtyard where two horses and a few servants waited. He handed the sceptre and orb to one of the servants before mounting his white stallion, his sister quickly mounting her black one. He took the reigns, kicking his horse into a trot until they took their place in front of the coffins where he slowed the horse, allowing the rest of the procession to keep up. 

Then, it started. The final ceremony for his mother and father began as they rode through the streets of the main city, the commons standing on the side of the street with a sad but hopeful look in their eyes. The ride was too short, and soon James found himself in the forest, dismounting his stallion and turning to watch as his parents’ coffins were lowered into the ground. 

“They were good people,” James started, reciting the speech he had thought up earlier that morning. “You all knew that. They gave this kingdom new life; however, all good things must come to an end. It does not matter the way they were taken from us, because their legacy will live on -- through all of us. I ask from all of you, in this time of mourning, to look towards the future, and keep your spirits high. They were taken from us too soon, but they accomplished more than any of us could ask for. So, as a final farewell, I will continue on the path they wanted for this kingdom, and I hope all of you will do the same.”

By the time the coffins were covered with dirt and everyone said their final farewells to the beloved king and queen, the sun hung low in the sky. James slowly rode back to the castle with his sister. There was a slight breeze, and shadows creeped up on everything in the two siblings’ sight, and yet somehow, through all the chaos and terror, everything felt peaceful. 

“I had the murderer’s execution up,” Selina said.

“What?”

“I moved up his execution,” Selina replied. “He’ll be executed at noon tomorrow.”

James couldn’t stop the doleful look from momentarily crossing his face as too many thoughts came rushing back. He felt numb, both physically and mentally. He would have to learn to cope with a loss he still wasn’t sure he could face.

“Don’t worry, James,” Selina said, apparently taking the momentary look of sadness as grief for his parent’s death. “He’ll be gone soon, and his sins will be paid for.”

The two remained silent for the remainder of the ride home. Once they reached the castle, James handed his horse to a servant before heading straight for his room, not bothering with dinner and hoping his sister wouldn’t attempt to force him to join her and Harvey. 

Upon reaching his room, James removed the golden crown from his head and placed it on the wooden table a few feet away from his bed. He then began to pace in circles -- thinking, hoping for a way out of this situation. He could postpone the execution, going against his sister’ demands with the excuse he wasn’t up for the task so soon, but how would that look to the people of Gotham? Would they see him as weak if he avoided executing the man who murdered his successors? No, he wouldn’t do that, but he did decide on his actions. It didn’t take as long as he thought -- only about an hour -- and now he just had to wait. 

Once the sky was dark and the moon was the only thing illuminating the city streets, James made his way around his room, looking for the perfect objects to give the redheaded boy. He already had the key, he just needed one other thing. Finally he found it: the perfect weapon. It was a silver dagger with golden designs etched into the dark wooden handle. It was small, and James was sure he could easily hide it on both himself and the boy locked in the dungeon.

Hiding both objects in this boots, making sure to wrap the dagger in a piece of cloth to avoid the blade slicing into his flesh. Without further delay, James made his way down to the dungeons, being careful to now draw the attention of his sister as he passed her room. Once in the dungeons, he ordered the guards to leave, waiting until they were out of earshot before unlocking Jerome’s cell.

“So you did decide to visit me after all, Jamesy,” Jerome said, watching the older man walk closer to him. “I was almost afraid you wouldn’t show, and you even made the guards leave. What are we going to do tonight?”

“My sister had your execution moved to tomorrow,” James said, stepping closer to the boy.

“Tomorrow, huh?” Jerome said. “Well that’s disappointing. Never much minded the thought of death though, although I don’t particularly enjoy the thought of being burned alive, but who knows? Maybe it’ll tickle.”

“You’re not being killed tomorrow,” James said, lowering his voice. “You’re going to meet me in the courtyard later tonight when everyone is asleep.”

James removed the dagger and key from his boots. He wrapped his arms around the boy, rolling his eyes as the redhead used that as an opportunity to moan and suck at the older man’s neck. James wanted to enjoy it, to stand there and let the boy bring him pleasure, but having sex while the king was slipping a dagger and key into the young criminal’s pants didn’t seem like a good idea. Instead, James quickly accomplished what he meant to do and stepped away from the boy, hoping his skin wouldn’t bruise where the boy had been sucking.

“The key unlocks the chains and gates,” James said. “And try not to kill anyone you don’t have to.”

James turned to leave, closing the gate behind him. He hoped he did the right thing and made a choice where he could be king and have his secret lover, but most of all he hoped the boy would succeed. James was sure if the boy got caught he would definitely tell whomever caught him about James giving the redhead a dagger and key, and about James’s lustful obsession with the redhead. If Jerome didn’t succeed, all hell would surely break loose.


End file.
